


Road Trip

by lornrocks



Category: Fandom: Heroes
Genre: M/M, Roadtrip, bc it is sort of ooc, i'm sort of embarassed by this, sexinthecar, tksex, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:53:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornrocks/pseuds/lornrocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a sentence by a_little_push (the last sentence of this fic) and a line from rancid_bitch. Basically, the boys go on a road trip and some road side sexins occur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Trip

The weather was staying around seventy eight degrees, the sun was shining, and the road was clear. No one was around for miles except the occasional jogger or trucker. On the radio was some good music, mostly stuff from the early 2000's and on, although Sylar was hardly paying attention to that.

His attention was not on the road (as it very well should have been), but instead, on the lithe form currently lounged in the passenger seat of their rental car. Peter had tilted the seat back and was looking out the window at the scenery flying by. Instead of his usual long, dark clothes, he was wearing some (incredibly tight) blue jeans with a white v-neck and sunglasses.

It was incredibly distracting.

Especially when Peter rolled down the window and his hair started flying in the breeze and his shirt hitched up to show _just enough_ skin and Peter started to quietly sing along to the radio as he absent mindedly traced patterns on his leg with his left hand.

Shaking his head, Sylar turns his gaze back to the road and tries to focus on the double yellow lines on his left.

"Do you want to switch?" Peter asks, suddenly, and Sylar almost jumps at the sound.

"Ah...no. No. I'm good, thanks," he manages to say with a lot more grace than he thought he would be able to.

Peter shrugs and stretches, back arching away from the seat and arms extended above his head. This time, Sylar's treated to the sight of well defined hip bones poking out from above the incredibly low line of the other's jeans.

Sylar swallows and reaches over to turn up the AC. Suddenly it was getting really, really warm in the car, even though the window was down and he was wearing a light grey tshirt, jeans and Converse instead of his usual duds.

They start driving through some mountains and the radio goes fuzzy. Frowning, Peter sits up and starts rummaging through a pile of cds they shoved in the center console. Sylar tries to look at which CD the other man had picked but Peter covers it.

"It's a surprise," he says simply, and puts the CD in. In a few seconds, it starts to play, and a familiar beat comes on. Some talking, whatever, and then...

_I've had a little bit too much_  
All of the people start to rush.  
Start to rush babe.  
How does he twist the dance?  
Can't find my drink or man.  
Where are my keys, I lost my phone. 

There's a long pause as the two men listen.

"Are we...did you just put in a Lady Gaga cd?" Sylar asks, turning to look at Peter from the corner of his eye.

"Yes. Yes I did," comes the reply.

Another pause.

"So you secretly love her music, too?"

Peter laughs.

"Yeah. Tell anyone and I'll kill you."

He pulls off his sunglasses and throws them on the dash, then settles back down in his seat. They listen to the cd for a while, just letting the miles fly by, and they're around track thirteen when Sylar happens to catch some movement in his peripheral vision.

Peter has one arm behind his head like a pillow, but the other has started wandering down his side before resting on his hip. He thinks Peter was just fidgeting when Peter moves his hand again and this time, it slides down his hip and right over his crotch. It takes all of Sylar's self control not to turn and look completely as Peter starts to rub his hand obscenely up and down, letting an incredibly quiet groan escape his lips.

Flicking his eyes back to the road, Sylar takes deep breaths and tries to think about quantum physics, or something, when Peter sits up.

"Pull over, I'm horny."

Sylar's eyebrows raise impossibly high.

"What?"

Peter leans over so one arm is slung across the back of Sylar's seat. Planting a kiss behind the other man's ear, he slides his other hand down and imitates his earlier actions, feeling the growing bulge underneath his hand.

"You are too," he purrs, lightly nipping on Sylar's ear, and the man attached to it groans.

"Maybe if you weren't putting on such a show over there," Sylar complains, and Peter laughs low against the skin he was in the process of nibbling on.

"You're a whore," the taller man finally groans, and Peter pulls back.

"I'm a whore for you, babe. Now pull over."

So Sylar does and they manage to unbuckle themselves and tumble into the backseat. Somehow, Peter's already pulling his jeans down and over his shoes. With a combination of shock and arousal, Sylar notes that his companion was going commando the whole time.

Which would probably explain why he could see so much when Peter was stretching, come to think of it.

Growing impatient, Peter starts to undo the fastenings on Sylar's pants, then demands, "Up."

Sylar lifts his hips enough for Peter to tug them down, along with his boxer briefs, to his knees.

With Sylar seated, Peter puts his knees on either side of the other man's thighs and kneels, his ass tantalizing close to the other man's cock, which has since become much more interested in the whole situation.

Peter grabs Sylar's hand and starts sucking on two of his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and running his tongue along them. Reaching up with his other hand, Sylar digs his hand into Peter's hip, letting a breathy "Jesus, Peter" break the silence.

With a pop, Peter removes Sylar's fingers and brings his mouth to the other's, kissing him hard. When Sylar reaches his fingers up and inside of Peter, he's not surprised when the other man bites down hard on his lip.

He moves his fingers in and out quickly, scissoring and twisting and making the man on top of him writhe and try to push his hips back. Feeling satisfied, Sylar slides his fingers out, rubs his thumb over the head of his own cock once or twice, and then shifts so he's lined up.

Without warning, Peter moves his knees farther apart and shifts down, letting gravity take over until their hips meet with a dull "smack".

Without even waiting to adjust, Peter puts his palms flat against the roof of the car and uses it as leverage to bounce up and down on Sylar's cock.

Since no one is around and most likely won't be, Peter has no problem making as much noise as he pleases, letting every moan and curse out.

Sylar slides his hands around and cups that incredibly glorious ass, helping Peter move.

Leaning up to kiss at Peter's collarbone, Sylar notices a single drop of sweat making its way down the other man's forehead, making his hair stick. It was getting rather hot in the car, actually, although the fact he was currently being ridden like a racehorse probably had something to do with it.

Trying to get the words out, Peter manages to say between bounces, "Give me your telekinesis."

Sylar reaches a hand up to cup at the other man's face and closes his eyes. He can feel the tingling sensation of power being taken, something he'll never get used to. He's about to ask what Peter wants it for when he feels a sudden pressure against his prostate.

Bucking his hips, he digs his nails in to the flesh beneath his hands.

"Cheater," he hisses, feeling pressure start to build in his abdomen.

Suddenly, he gets an idea.

"Two can play at this game," he taunts, and takes Peter's cock in hand.

He starts pumping it hard and fast, which makes Peter rub the TK inside of him faster, and the next thing they know, Peter's slamming his hips down against Sylar's and Sylar is pushing them up to meet him halfway and the car smells like sex and the only sound is their breathing and the slap of their skin and Sylar's skin is starting to crawl from the sweat dripping down on it and he just can't take it anymore.

"Peter," he groans, "You feel so good, _oh_...."

The younger man bounces down once or twice more before coming in short spurts all over Sylar's hand. His body spasms with ecstasy and Sylar shoves the other man's hips down tightly against his own as he comes, too.

Sylar slumps against the seat and Peter leans back, one arm on the back of each of the front seats. After a moment, they start to regain their breaths back.

"I don't think we're making such good time anymore," Peter says, out of the blue, and Sylar laughs.

"Maybe we'll have to stop at a hotel for the night," he smiles, looking up at the other man, who leans forward and plants a lingering kiss on Sylar.

"We can stay at one of those themed motels?" Peter offers, grabbing some dirty tshirt from underneath the passenger seat and using it to clean them both off.

Working his pants back up, Sylar uses TK to hold up Peter's pants to help him back into them.

"I've always wanted to sleep in a giant clam."

They both laugh and crawl back into the front seats.

Stopping somewhere is starting to sound nicer and nicer, Sylar decides, starting the car back up. From the radio, they hear,

" _Boys boys boys_  
We like boys in cars  
Boys boys boys  
Buy us drinks in bars  
Boys boys boys  
With Hairspray and denim  
Boys boys boys  
We love them!  
We love them!  
"

Tilting his head back into the wind, Peter laughs as he turns his head to look at Sylar in the driver's seat next to him who was grinning; there was only the wide open road in front of them and no one to judge them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ a long time ago.


End file.
